


Doppelganger: Pete

by rsadelle



Series: Doppleganger [2]
Category: The X-Files, Two Guys a Girl and a Pizza Place
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-06-09
Updated: 1999-06-09
Packaged: 2017-10-28 19:04:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/311213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rsadelle/pseuds/rsadelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete finds out about Peyton.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doppelganger: Pete

**Author's Note:**

> Much more Two Guys than X-Files, but Peyton's still in it.

It had been a good night for Berg. Pete had heard him come in sometime after midnight, shushing whomever he was with, keeping quiet until they got to Berg's bedroom. But then, well, Berg was never quiet during sex and the walls of the apartment just weren't very thick. And so Pete heard him. All three times. And couldn't remember the last time either one of them had gotten quite that lucky.

Pete got out of bed and blearily made his way out to the kitchen and coffee. He stopped halfway there to stare at the person already in the kitchen. Or rather, the back of the person in the kitchen. A back clothed in a suit. A *male* back clothed in a suit. Then the person turned around and Pete found himself looking into his own face. Only not quite. There was something about the man's face that made it different. It was older, wearier, Pete's face if he'd lived the carefully planned life and actually become an architect.

The man in the suit recovered first and good manners reasserted themselves. "Peyton Ritter," he said, smiling and holding out his hand.

"Pete Dunville," Pete replied, reflexively shaking the outstretched hand.

They were standing in this oddly surreal tableau when Berg emerged, toweling his hair. "Peyton, could you grab me a cup of . . ." He trailed off as he moved the towel away from his face and saw them standing together, skewed reflections of lives that might have been. "Oh." Pete and Peyton drew apart and turned to look at Berg. "Pete, bathroom's free. Hang this up for me, will you?" Pete caught the towel Berg tossed at him and moved past Berg into the bathroom. He showered mechanically, letting the hot water run over him as his thoughts ran in circles and finally settled into accepting what was going on.

He got out of the shower and pulled on boxers and a t-shirt and left the bathroom. He stood in the hallway and watched as Berg walked Peyton to the door and tilted his head in unmistakable invitation. Peyton didn't disappoint him. He put his hands on either side of Berg's face and brought him in for a kiss that seemed to go on forever and made Berg bring his hands up to clutch at Peyton's shoulders. And then Peyton pulled his lips away. Even from across the room, Pete could tell that Berg was breathless.

"Good-bye, Berg."

"Bye Peyton." Berg closed the door, took a deep breath, and turned around. His eyes found Pete instantly.

"Berg," Pete said, not knowing what he wanted to say, but knowing that he had to say *something.*

"Look, Pete, I've got to go or I'll be late for class. I'll see you later." Berg grabbed his backpack off the couch and was out the door before Pete could say anything else.

Pete did the only thing he could do: he got dressed and went to work and spent the day finding jobs for other people. After work, he went to the pizza parlor where he watched Berg talk to Sharon and Ashley and the customers and basically everyone who was not Pete. Then Berg had a study group and an early review session the next morning. Pete let it go.

He went home and slept and went to work the next day. This time, he went home before going to the pizza parlor. He changed out of his suit and into jeans and a t-shirt, then went back down the stairs and to the pizza place. It was busy, exactly what he expected on a Friday night. Pete went behind the counter and tied on an apron and was searching for a pen to take orders with when Berg finally noticed him.

"What are you doing?"

"Helping out. It's busy and I know they haven't hired anyone else yet."

"Pete, you don't have to do this."

"I want to." Pete gave Berg his best hopeful, helpful smile. Berg sighed and made a "whatever" gesture.

They easily fell back into the familiar pattern of working together. It was only after the customers had all left and they were cleaning up that Pete decided it was time to talk.

"So," Pete began, "are we going to talk about this or are you just going to avoid me forever?"

"What should we be talking about?" Berg asked.

"How about the fact that two nights ago you brought home and fucked, three times I might add, a man who could be my twin?"

"Shit," Berg muttered.

"'Shit' is right. I didn't even know you were into guys."

"I'm not-- I'm into *people,* okay, Pete?"

"Okay. So why one who looks like me?"

"You want to know why? Fine. This is why." Somehow, when he wasn't looking Berg had moved to stand in front of him, *right* in front of him. Berg put his hands up to pull Pete's head toward him. And then Pete was being kissed, really kissed. It was hard and fierce and perfect. And then Berg stopped.

Pete had to gasp for air before he could say, "Three times, huh? It was that good?"

"Yeah." It was said as a sobbing breath.

"It could have been worse," Pete offered. Berg looked at him. "It could have been Ashley." And then Berg was laughing and crying and sobbing. Pete walked to him and cupped his cheek in one hand. ""Berg. Take me to bed."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay," Berg said and turned his cheek into Pete's palm.


End file.
